That's My Girl
by amalspach
Summary: The five times in which Soap called Sophronia 'his girl' and the evolution that stems from it. As you might have guessed, a Soap/Sophronia fic. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Finishing School series except the plot of this fic.**

* * *

The first time he said it, Sophronia was less than impressed. Honestly, it was hardly the time and place for such frivolity. Especially when she had only been telling him about the results of her testing with the oddgob.

"So, _did_ you hold back during that test?" he inquired. They were still in the boiler room with Vieve, and she really had to be getting back soon.

"Maybe a little," Sophronia admitted.

Soap grinned. "That's my girl." She had been forced to glare at the sootie; he was getting too familiar for comfort. Seeing her expression, his grin had widened. "You are, miss."

"I'm my _own_ girl, thank you very much," she snorted. The nerve of her friend tonight was astounding. Clearly he wasn't angling to be a gentleman this evening.

"Sometimes," he told her, stepping just the slightest bit closer. It wasn't a lot, just enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Soap continued, his voice now deeper. "Sometimes you're mine, of Miss Dimity's, or even Vieve's." Vieve, rather unhelpfully, sensed that she was being brought back into the conversation and bobbed her head in agreement with this statement. The young inventor was too young to follow this line of reasoning and was bound to side with Soap if the conversation nettled Sophronia - which, as was often the case in these sort of things, it did.

The intelligencer was beginning to get - dare she say it - _flustered_ , if such a thing were possible. She didn't like getting flustered. She especially didn't like that _Soap_ of all people was doing the flustering. Because she wasn't quite sure what the rising blush on her cheeks meant, she seeked to put a stop to this behavior.

"Stop it, Soap," she told him bluntly. Something flashed in his eyes (disappointment, perhaps), but he took a step of two back, choosing to end all routes of flirtation.

"For now, miss," he sighed, looking the slightest bit exasperated and hurt. "You tell me when you want this conversation to continue."

"Oh, really!" Sophronia huffed. They were back in more familiar territory now, if anything was to be said about the last several minutes. Vieve, still oblivious to manners of the heart, watched the exchange, her bright eyes curious.

Soap, once again proving that he was capable of being a gentleman when he tried, left the subject at that and moved onto the next boiler room excitement; the sooties had adopted a kitten. Sophronia listened intently to the story of how they came about adding the stray to the crew, laughing in the right places and waiting patiently through Vieve's interjections. However, despite the welcome distraction, one of her thoughts was far louder than the rest: _I am going to have the most dastardly time falling asleep tonight_.

* * *

The next occasion he called her this was a complete surprise. It was about a year later, she thought, since the last time, and just as inappropriate. Still, the charming sootie knew just how to get her, it appeared.

To her merit, Sophronia hadn't meant to come down to the boilers that day, but her training had been particularly grueling and the young lady had decided she needed a quick vacation. It was only a matter of stealing boy clothing from Sidheag and climbing down the rigging on the balloons to see them, anyhow. Seeing the sooties - especially Soap, now that she thought about it - went a long way in securing her mental sanity and collecting her wits once more.

She had just arrived when she saw him, actually, so for once, he didn't need to be called away from work to talk to her. He was humming as he shoveled great mounds of coal into the engines of the dirigible, seemingly oblivious to her presence. The inteligencer smirked, biting the edges of her lips in order to hide her pleasure. This would be a fun exercise of her training.

With small, even footsteps on the flats of her feet, she inched closer, attempting to surprise him. Any slip-ups were easily masked by the sheer volume of noise in the boiler room, and she felt rather stealthy, despite her apparel. Sophronia felt a giddy sort of accomplishment as she reached behind him, only about an inch away, when -

"I got you, miss," Soap grinned widely, gripping her wrists triumphantly. She looked at him with an expression akin to shock.

"But how?" she questioned, slightly miffed. His expression would have been priceless.

"Don't you know that I always know when you arrive? There's no way I could miss you," he laughed. She scowled slightly, shoving him in a most unladylike fashion.

"Oh, bother," the intelligencer grumbled. "Of course you would." He only shrugged, looking a good deal more self satisfied than any respectable young man would in this scenario.

"How so?" If it was possible for him to appear more smug, Sophronia was sure he had just managed it.

"You know everything down here, it seems. You're practically king of the sooties." He pondered this for a moment, dropping the shovel on the dirty floor and wiping his brow.

"King of the sooties; I can't argue with you there. I think it suits me." Taking a moment to show complete romantic sincerity, however, he turned back to his female companion. "But a king needs a queen, miss." Her heart fluttered at both his proximity and those words, and for once, she didn't even bother to deny that he had her in a tizzy.

"Is that so?" she asked, her feet bringing her forwards of their own accord. Her voice seemed to have betrayed her, being a great deal higher than it should have been. _Honestly, I seem to have no control over myself today_.

"That it is, miss," he reported solemnly. "Were you considering applying for the position?" Her breath caught tightly and her breathing pinched in a most uncomfortable way. Must they play these games?

Finally, Sophronia broke away from his intense gaze. "Oh, honestly, Soap. Not tonight." He smiled as he picked up the shovel, happy to have won, for once.

"That's my girl," he told her, but this time it was different; she felt a tingle up her spine as he said the words.

"Hardly," she denied, although the denial barely felt or sounded true, even to her own ears. "I think I'm going to go back up to bed. I don't feel well." And so, without so much as a goodbye, the intelligencer fled the room as quickly as possible, trying her very best to ignore the rapid beats of her heart and the stinging redness of her face.

Perhaps her friend had more of an effect on her than she had initially thought.

* * *

The third time was rather unceremonious compared to the others, if those could even be _called_ ceremonious. Her beau was the worst, she reflected afterwards, for having this sort of effect on her. Soap was downright oblivious to his own charms.

The dewan had issued an impossibly boring assignment out to the pair of field agents; to spy upon the members of Westminster Hive. Negotiations between vampires, werewolves, and picklemen were unnaturally high, causing tensions to rise. Lately Countess Nassady was taking in an obscene amount of drones, which had caused further suspicion to fall upon the vampires of Westminster. As with most tasks now, the dewan sent out Sophronia and Soap to deal with this problematic issue. Thus commenced the wasting of many an afternoon in ridiculous disguises while they kept lookout.

"How much longer until our shift is completed?" Sophronia complained, scowling at the empty alley before her. She may be a top intelligencer, but one can only sit in the dark doing nothing for so long before they get bored. Surveillance had never seemed so dull.

"Not very long," Soap told her, grabbing her fingers and intertwining them with his. She glanced down at their hands and smiled slightly. It seemed like only yesterday that he had become a werewolf. Now it had been nearly a year and a half since he had been changed, yet nothing between _them_ had changed.

Except for the hand holding part. And the admittance of their feelings. And she can't exactly forget about the constant kissing.

Well, maybe quite a bit has changed, she supposed.

"Thank goodness," Sophronia huffed, her breath turning to white in the crisp night air. "Daylight comes in about an hour. We've been up all night." Beside her, Soap the former sootie yawned. "Exactly, tonight has been exhausting."

"I can't say I'm not eager to go home, either," he admitted. "I can't wait to go back to sleep."

"So werewolves do have weaknesses after all," she teased, flicking him on the nose. At this point, she had given up on social standards. Propriety could be flung to the wind while she endured this.

"My weakness is you," he smiled sleepily, nuzzling her neck like the wolf he had become. "It always has been."

"Oh, stop it, Phineas," she told him fondly. He took that to mean 'grab Sophronia's waist and hold her tightly'.

"That's my girl," he beamed. "Still ordering me around." If her stomach was doing some sort of relay, well, that was nobody's business.

"i suppose I am." Half of her couldn't believe that he had been able to coax that statement out. Being covert and discreet when handling information was, after all, her trade. "Curse you for being so wonderful." Her nose had wrinkled up in mild annoyance. Why did he still have such a hold on her?

"We'd best be getting back," he sighed, gazing at the watch Vieve had gifted them last Christmas. The young inventor had kept bragging about having made it herself.

"I suppose so." For some reason, she felt a little dissapointed that they had to leave. If her beau could make her _enjoy_ the rigors of patrol, she flushed to think of what else he might be capable of.

* * *

The fourth time he called her by this title was when she was sifting through papers that had been haphazardly strewn across her desk.

"What are you reading about, my heart?" he asked softly, rubbing her shoulders from behind as he talked. Recently he had taken a special shine to that nickname, using it frequently on the finishing school graduate.

Sophronia smiled at the ministration. If anything, he had become even more affectionate over the last five years. Supernaturals - especially werewolves - responded to physical contact as a means of conditioning, a process that Sophronia had taken advantage of many a time whenever he was beginning to go moon mad. As a result, the two were constantly touching; brushing knees, holding hands, kissing cheeks - they were never apart from eachother.

If they found a priest willing to perform the rights, she knew that she was going to marry him someday.

"I was just examining reports on Egypt. There have been many curious accounts stemming from the area for years." Soap now stopped rubbing her shoulders and began to hug her from behind.

"How so?"

"There have been many supposed cases of . . ." she bit her lip, trying to propose a plan right on the spot for, quite possibly, the first time in her life. Having no idea what she was doing was new for the young woman. So much of her career was based upon her unique abilities to execute and create plans. She tended to think and analyze a situation ahead of time, often convinced that her innate skills and intelligence would be able to get her out of most jams.

"It's only me, my heart," he told Sophronia. "Don't think about how to put things gently. Just say it." A deep breath was taken in by his female companion, who then turned around to converse with him.

"In Egypt, there have been cases of supernaturals aging. I know it's silly, but I thought that maybe . . . when we're done living under the dewan's indenture, we could go there. Perhaps we could start a new life." For a second, a terrifying second, her beau froze, not saying anything or moving at all.

"You mean there's a place I can be _human_ again?" he whispered, almost in disbelief. Although Phineas Crow enjoyed being a werewolf and was grateful for the opportunity to live, he felt as though the transformation had taken so much from him. The idea that he could have children, start a family, grow old with the girl he loved . . . for the former sootie, it was almost too much to process.

"Yes, I do believe there is," Sophronia answered quietly. "Is that a good thing?" Realizing that he hadn't said any of what he had been thinking out loud, he laughed, picking her up and twirling her around. The intelligencer would never admit it, but she might have squealed with surprise as he grabbed her.

"That's a very good thing!" he grinned. "It's a great thing!" They continued this frivolous elation for another several minutes, basking in the epiphany that had just been had. Finally, he brought her back down to the ground, still smiling widely. She couldn't manage to mask the happiness on her face, either. "That's my girl."

"Yes, well, I try to be." If this is what being in love with him is like, then Sophronia was absolutely sure that she never wanted it to stop.

"As soon as our service is done, we'll go," he stated with a giddy sort of finality. Sophronia pecked him on the lips lightly, still glowing.

"Agreed."

* * *

The final time he called her that was after they had just moved in.

It was completely unexpected, on her part, that he would be doing such a thing. They were still getting settled, after all, in what they could only assume to entitle 'domestic bliss'. Although she missed the missions she was often sent on under the service of the dewan, Sophronia had to admit that being in Egypt without the weight of an assignment was nice.

And, of course, her Phineas was a mortal again. That, as it happened, was a pleasant change as well.

No longer would he struggle to control his form on the full moon. Soap was free of the painful burden of pack affairs, and thus both of them were able to slip into their new lives with a degree of normalcy. His curse would no longer bare any weight on their relationship, and the question that came with it; what would happen after the intelligencer died?

Now that statement would never have to be answered.

Of course, this didn't ensure a long and happy life. There were still many issues at hand; since both were mortal, one might die of natural causes out in Egypt. It was perfectly reasonable. However, it was a chance they were more than willing to take.

Soap now had a more important question to ask her, anyhow.

"Will you marry me, Sophronia?" he asked one night, grabbing her from behind and burying his face in her neck. Stunned, she had turned around, not really believing that she had heard him correctly. "Well, tell me, Sophronia. I'm nervous enough as it is."

"I never thought I would hear you say that," she whispered truthfully, tears welling in her eyes. This was, quite sadly, the very first time the brunette could recall getting worked up over the subject of romance and marriage. _If Dimity saw me now, she would never let me live it down_ , Sophronia internally told herself. Dimity did tend to have a tenancy for encouraging her relationship. Unfortunately, she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I know we never said anything about marriage, but I thought, we're in Egypt now, so we could probably find someone to perform the ceremony, and - " She didn't let him finish before she planted a kiss on his lips, now letting the tears fly free.

"Yes, of course, Soap," she smiled brightly, pulling away for air. Her grin only got wider as she saw the smitten look on his face. It was painfully obvious that he was in love with her. She couldn't begin to fathom how she had gotten so lucky. "As if there was any chance that I would say _no_."

"That's my girl," he laughed, finally reclaiming his voice and pulling her into his arms again. The young lady took a moment to sniff the material of his shirt, soaking in the moment. He smelled like wood and lemon soap, despite being in Egypt. He smelled comforting and familiar; he smelled like home.

"No," she corrected him softly. "I'm going to be your wife." As he dipped her down once more to meet her lips, she could practically _taste_ his happiness.

No matter what happened or what she was called, Sophronia would always remain one thing - his.

* * *

 **So, this was it. Happy Valentine's Day, by the way! I hope you enjoyed this Soap/Sophronia oneshot. I love these books (this is such an awesome series that I can't even) and I really hope that everyone who read them liked this story and this pairing.**

 **I haven't written for this fandom in a while and decided to give it another go after rereading the books again. The first segment was essentially a slightly elaborated part from the second book, which inspired the rest of the oneshot. I just had to finish it then.**

 **Don't worry, guys, I haven't given up on any of my other stories and am in the process of writing more oneshots - mainly Miraculous Ladybug ones.**

 **Anyhow, bye, everybody! See you soon!**


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